Fraternization
by kali6
Summary: Astrid has always been different, but that doesn't mean she can't have what everyone else has.


**Notes**: This story was a gift for millari as part of the Rare Pair Fest. Millari was interested in Alternate Astrid, who is one of my favourite characters on Fringe, and so I'm thrilled to have the opportunity to write her. This started as a character study and ended up a little fluffier than intended. Hope you enjoy it!

_Fraternization_ is about at AU as it gets: it takes place in the other universe, in the Amber time line, and goes AU after 4x16 (Lincoln does not die). But hey, it's Fringe, so this could be a world that exists out there in the multiverse.

**Disclaimer** - Fringe, its characters, and its jargon are not mine. I just think they're fun.

* * *

.

Astrid is eight years, seven months, and sixteen days old when her father slaps her.

She is standing beside her mother's bed. Mama takes Astrid's hand and says "I'm stopping the treatment."

Astrid says "There is only a twenty three percent likelihood of you living until my birthday if you do that," and then her father slaps her.

Astrid is sent to her room. She thinks about twenty three percent and about how much her face hurts. She thinks i_maybe I shouldn't have said it/i_. But it is the truth and if she doesn't tell the truth, is that any better than saying a lie? She sits on her bed and wonders about truth.

After a while, she hears her father go to his room. She waits until he is snoring before she sneaks into her mother's room. Her mother is awake, as usual, and she reaches out her hand to Astrid.

"Papa's afraid, my dear. He didn't mean to hurt you."

"I'm sorry for what I said," she apologizes. "I didn't mean to make you afraid."

"I know, my lovely," Mama whispers. "And I'm sorry about your birthday."

Astrid nods even though she doesn't understand and takes her mother's hand. It is thin, and the skin feels like powder and silk, dusty and slippery.

Astrid is eight years, eleven months, and twenty five days old when her mother dies. The funeral is held on her birthday.

* * *

Lincoln Lee's life was very normal. He liked normal. It was easy to predict, easy to understand. He lived in a nice house with his parents, he went to school and baseball practice, and he loved Pac-Man.

For Lincoln's seventh birthday, his dad gave him a copy of iThe Science Book/i. It opened his world. He dove into science like other kids obsessed over rare baseball cards or new comic books. He liked science because it was logical and controlled. There were rules that could not be broken, truths that could not be denied. At the same time, though, there were hundreds of questions to answer. He was going to answer some of those questions.

A week after his birthday, Lincoln sat down at the kitchen table and announced that he was going to be a scientist.

"That's nice, honey," his mother said, pouring milk over his cereal. "What kind of scientist?"

"A chemist," he said confidently. "Or a biologist."

"I thought you were going to be a policeman," his father said. "Did I miss something?"

Lincoln's parents were older than his friends' parents and sometimes they acted like they were surprised he was there. He never felt unloved, just overlooked.

"Arnold, he's in the second grade." Lincoln's mother said in her grown-ups voice. "I think we can expect him to change careers a few more times before anything is set in stone."

Lincoln scowled into his Cheerios. He wasn't going to change his mind. He was going to be a biologist. Or a chemist.

Two weeks after Lincoln's eighth birthday, the laws of the universe changed. The logic, the absolutes, they disappeared. It upset his parents, but Lincoln found it fascinating. The rules had changed and it was going to be scientists who brought order. It was going to be him.

* * *

Director Bishop stands on Astrid's front porch. She is fourteen years, five months, and twelve days old. He says he is here to talk about Astrid's schooling and to offer her an opportunity. Astrid's father has a unusual look on his face; she doesn't understand it.

Director Bishop is from the Fringe Division, and he is probably going to become Secretary of Defense. Astrid knows this from her science classes and from the news. He says that she came to his attention because of her off-the-charts scores in mathematics. He uses the word 'astronomical' and he and her father laugh briefly. She doesn't know why; she doesn't study astronomy.

Astrid is given a stack of papers to read. She skims through them and realizes that Director Bishop is here to take her away. She will go to a Fringe Division facility and skip from grade 11 (which she skipped into from grade 9 two months ago) directly into university studies. She will be allowed to take all the courses she wants until she is twenty one. Then she will be required to work for Fringe Division for six years.

"It's like the military," Director Bishop says, looking at Astrid's father. "We'll give her the best education possible, in exchange for a tour of duty. But unlike the military, we'll keep her safe behind a desk for that tour."

Astrid's father smiles. She looks at his face for several seconds, trying to catalogue the expression. Later, in her room, she pulls out the scrapbook of photographs she uses to interpret faces and pages through it. Her father hadn't looked like her pictures of happy or of proud. Those were the words he used, but not the face. She continues to page through the album until she finds it. This is it, she realizes. Relieved.

* * *

The Fringe Division was the first place where Lincoln truly fit in. He smiled to himself as he walked through the noisy room towards his desk.

"Lee!" Olivia Dunham's voice cut through Lincoln's thoughts. "Get your spiky haired head in the game."

Lincoln flipped her the bird and laughed as he sat at his desk. "I'm good to go, Liv."

"Really, science boy? You don't need more time in the little boys room to pretty yourself up for the ladies."

"Jealous, Dunham?" he teased. "I knew you had a thing for me".

"You've found me out!" Olivia sighed melodramatically, a hand to her forehead. "Oh, how I pine for y-" She broke off with a squeal as Lincoln whacked her with a file. "Abuse!" she cried.

The rest of the room carried on working. Dunham and Lee were squabbling like siblings: it was just another Friday. Lincoln grinned at Olivia and she winked at him, pushing off of his desk and walking away. He turned his attention to the case file. It was an extra-weird one this week – a man causing power outages. They knew where he had been but were still working out how to find his present location.

He looked around the room. Fringe Division was full of people who were like him in their obsession with the unusual and he had never felt more at home. Olivia was back at her desk, examining photos. Charlie was on the phone, as was the Colonel. Astrid stood at her table, hunting patterns. His team. His family.

* * *

The Lincoln Lee from the other universe is very disconcerting, Astrid feels. She does not like having him around the headquarters.

This dislike is strange to her. Normally Astrid doesn't feel negatively about strangers, even ones from alternate universes. In fact, she likes Dr. Bishop, though he is nothing like Secretary Bishop. He is a strange man, but he is not put off by her condition. He gave her candy when they first met and he makes her laugh.

Astrid also likes the other Olivia. The woman is very similar to the Olivia Astrid knows, but quieter. She observes before she acts. But she is just as kind as the Olivia of Astrid's world. Astrid does not have enough data to calculate the probabilities, but she likes to believe that in the other universe, her alternate and the other Olivia are friends.

Olivia Dunham has been part of Astrid's world for three years, ten months, and five days. She is one of Astrid's favourite people. She is brash and outspoken, but she is also compassionate and strong. And she has never once treated Astrid as anything but an equal. Olivia is her friend.

Astrid has very few friends. She does not believe that the alternate Lincoln Lee would be her friend. In all their interactions, he only met her eyes four times. His face when he looks at his Olivia showed either attraction or awe, or some of each. Astrid doesn't like it. Captain Lee never looks at their Olivia that way.

"Did Lincoln do something to piss you off?"

Astrid jumps at the sound of Olivia's voice.

"Excuse me?" she asks, turning to face the other woman.

"You were glaring at him," Olivia says, gesturing to where Lincoln is working at his desk.

Astrid glances down at his profile. She feels her face heat.

"Or were you staring at him?" Olivia asks, smiling. "He's not hard on the eyes, if you like that geek-chic look."

Astrid shakes her head. "I was thinking about the Lincoln Lee from the other universe. Not Captain Lee."

"I get you. That one's a bit weird, isn't he?" Olivia leans against the smart table. "I like ours better."

_Me, too_. Astrid thinks.

* * *

The Colonel's actions had been a betrayal of everything Lincoln believed about being a Fringe agent. The media called them the "Science Police" and Lincoln took that role seriously. He was responsible for determining and enforcing the laws of that held their universe together. Broyles had been working to create a truly terrible breach of science's rules.

After Broyles' treasonous actions were revealed, Fringe Division was a madhouse. People's beliefs were shaken by the infiltration. At the centre of the chaos was Astrid – calm, focused, capable – and that gave Lincoln hope.

When he first met Astrid, Lincoln had been fascinated by her mind. He valued her as a member of his team, but he barely noticed the person who came with that incredible brain. As he got to know Astrid, though, he learned that she was a complex woman: charming, caring, shy, fiercely loyal. She was the rock that anchored their team.

"She's so different from their Astrid," Liv said one day.

"Is she really?" he asked.

Lincoln glanced up at where Astrid stood on the mezzanine. The analyst was immersed in the figures on her smart table, her focus absolute. Her beret was perfectly aligned on her tight curls, her uniform crisply pressed, and her air of 'in control' fully intact.

"She's different," Liv assured him. "Their Astrid is relaxed. She puts up with their Walter. And you know how weird he is."

Lincoln smiled. "Amazing the difference a gene makes."

Liv raised an eyebrow.

"Well, it's not like the universes are identical," he pointed out, leaning forward. "I have perfect vision – my alternate is myopic. Your alternate has that psychic ability. A tiny change on the genetic level and there you go. Their Astrid's smart, capable, and friendly. Ours is brilliant, a little autistic, and irreplaceable."

* * *

Astrid drops two ice cubes in her glass of water. She closes the fridge and sits at the kitchen table. She sips slowly.

She feels slightly fizzy inside, like her blood is carbonated. The idea makes her giggle, and she covers her mouth with her hand. Tonight was 'team drinks' night – that's what Olivia calls it. This was the fifth time the team has gone to a bar together. The first time happened five months, three weeks, and one day ago.

.

Astrid had been shutting down her smart table when Olivia and Captain Lee approached her.

"Looking forward to the long weekend, Astrid?" Olivia asked.

"Yes, thank you," Astrid said with a nod. She had a tall stack of books to read and she planned to go to the movies Monday afternoon, which would feel very self-indulgent. Remembering the rules of social reciprocation, she asked "Are you?"

"Yup. Frank and I are going up to his family's cottage tomorrow. Two full days in the woods, no phones, no computers, nothing to do but…" she trailed off with a wink. Astrid felt herself blush at the implication.

"Okay Liv," Captain Lee said with a crooked smile. "I think you have now told _everyone_ in Fringe Division that you're getting laid this weekend. You can stop now."

"I'm sure there's someone I've missed," Olivia grinned at Astrid. "I'll do a headcount when we get to the bar."

Captain Lee shook his head and made his 'irritated but amused' face. He turned to Astrid and looked her in the eye. "Would you like to come out with us tonight, Astrid? We're going to Sheenahan's."

Astrid stared at him in shock. No one had ever invited her to socialize with the Fringe Division team. His face was serious, though; it appeared he meant what he said.

"Thank you, Captain Lee," Astrid said slowly, trying to decide on her answer.

"Lincoln, please, Astrid. We've worked together for six years."

_Five years, eight months and seventeen days_ thought Astrid.

"When we're not on duty, call me Lincoln." He smiled at her, a full smile that said 'friendship' and 'affection,' and Astrid found herself smiling in response.

"Yes, Captain… Lincoln. And thank you for the invitation. I would," she took a deep breath. "I would like to go with you to Sheenahan's tonight." She almost burst with pride at her own daring.

.

Astrid enjoys these social outings more than she expected to. The team includes her in conversations and she is learning to play pool, which is geometry and physics and quite challenging. She now knows which agents have romantic partners and which have children. She has seen them laugh and curse and even shed tears over their work. She knows them as people now, and they are her friends.

Tonight, Astrid had decided to drink alcohol so she asked Olivia to order her something. The drink was mostly grapefruit juice with a little vodka. Astrid likes grapefruit juice and it appears she likes vodka, too, because she drank a second Greyhound before realizing that alcohol makes her thought processes unusually slow. Astrid is twenty six years, eleven months, and fourteen days old, and she might be drunk.

And at the end of the night, she and Lincoln always share a cab. This was the fifth time Captain Lee – Lincoln –walked her to her door and kissed her on the cheek. Astrid really likes that part of the evening. She likes the other parts, too, but she likes that part a lot. She has spent a lot of time thinking about Lincoln's kisses. He has warm lips and when they linger on her skin, she feels her whole body get warm. His irises are a fascinating mix of blues, and his pupils dilate as he stares down at her. She anticipates each kiss and relives them for weeks afterwards.

She doesn't understand them, though. Astrid has never seen him kiss any other Fringe agent, but that does not mean he has not. He is in the field frequently; he and Astrid only spend an average of nineteen hours and twenty two minutes a week working in close proximity. In those hours, she has never seen or heard him express an interest in kissing any of the other agents. Conversely, he has never shown any sign of wanting to kiss her except for those five times on her front steps.

Astrid has watched many romantic movies, and she's also been on a few dates. She knows that calculating the probabilities of romantic intentions is an imprecise science – it involves an understanding of emotion that is difficult even for people without her condition. She also knows that she wants Lincoln to have romantic intentions towards her.

Astrid finds herself being distracted by the sight of his spiked blond hair when she ought to be running searches. She has learned more of his expressions than anyone else on their team. The probability of him being clean shaven on a Tuesday is sixty-eight percent; on a Saturday, thirty-two percent. She thinks that she want to run the back of her hand over his beard stubble to find out if it is as soft as it looks.

Her water glass is empty. The spinning feeling has passed. It's time to sleep.

* * *

Lincoln put his arm around the waist of the woman he was escorting and helped her onto the stretcher. She looked completely shell-shocked, which was understandable. Everyone he had taken from the Amber had worn some version of that expression.

Each site they de-Ambered was praised in the media as a sign of the universe's healing. Lincoln never felt like celebrating, though; so many of the people they freed were broken.

"What's your name, ma'am?" he asked.

"Sarah Maloney." Her voice was barely above a whisper, and she trembled under Lincoln's hands. He helped her to lean back, and then stepped away to give the paramedics room, touching his cuff as he moved.

"Astrid?"

"Yes, Captain Lee?"

Lincoln smiled slightly as her bright voice filled his ear. "I've got Maloney, Sarah, from the northwest quadrant," he said. "Do we have any relatives to notify?"

There was a pause. He could picture her elegant fingers flying across the smart table.

"I have dispatched a team to notify Sarah Maloney's wife and son. They will be brought to the hospital to meet her."

"Great. We'll be back at headquarters in forty-five."

He was about to end the call when Astrid spoke again.

"Take West Street or you'll be late."

It sounded like an order, but Lincoln knew she was offering advice. Still, it was uncharacteristic, Astrid breaking out of their work-only communication pattern.

"Thank you, Astrid" he said. "Wouldn't want to be late. Got an important date."

He heard her inhale sharply.

"You have a date?" There was an edge to her voice. Perhaps anger, jealousy? Lincoln dismissed the idea as wishful thinking. He had been doing too much of that recently, since the first night Astrid had joined them at Sheenahan's.

.

They had shared a cab, since his apartment was only ten blocks from her place. His father had taught him manners, so he had the cab wait while he made certain Astrid made it safely into her house.

They walked up the steps without speaking. Astrid wasn't very talkative, which had never bothered Lincoln. He wasn't big on wasting energy on unnecessary conversation, and Astrid's silence never felt uncomfortable. Lincoln knew she would talk if she had something to say. Tonight, though, she was smiling and seemed content to keep her thoughts to herself.

Lincoln put his hand under her elbow to escort her up the stairs. He watched as she unlocked the front door, her movements as quick and efficient as everything Astrid did. A burst of affection made him catch his breath, and when she turned to him to say goodnight, he leaned down and kissed her cheek.

Astrid stared up at him, her eyes wide. Lincoln noticed that under the streetlights her eyes were huge and bright, the irises so dark they blended with her pupils. The skin of her cheek was smooth beneath his lips, and he remembered how, on the ferry earlier, it had taken on a coppery glow in the light of the setting sun.

Astrid blinked and the moment was broken. She looked at him solemnly for a moment before pushing her door open.

"Goodnight, Captain… Lincoln," she said, disappearing inside before he could respond.

.

"Why do you have a date? Tonight is 'team drinks' night." Astrid's voice roused Lincoln from his memories.

"I have a date with _you_, Farnsworth. You and Liv and the rest of the team," he qualified. Just because he wanted to ask the brilliant analyst out for drinks, one on one, didn't mean he could. Damn fraternization regs.

"Oh," Astrid said.

"You really think I'd ditch you? When I could spend the evening with the smartest woman in New York, talking about potential cures for the Blight? Really, Astrid," he teased.

"I have new data for you." She spoke quickly, a sign of excitement. "I'll bring it tonight. But you will be late if you don't find Agent Dunham. And take West Street."

"Yes, ma'am!" Lincoln smiled. "See you soon."

* * *

Astrid is watching Olivia play darts with Jason Simons. The new analyst is not playing very well, and Olivia is smiling a lot. Astrid asks Lincoln if it's because she's winning and he laughs.

"No, Liv's smiling because she's flirting with Simons."

"Oh." Astrid takes a moment to assess this concept and then she nods. "It makes sense. They have a high degree of compatibility, given their backgrounds and psychological assessments."

"You have our psych assessments in your head?" Lincoln asks. "That's not creepy at all." He smiles so that Astrid will know he's teasing her. He is considerate that way.

"I processed Agent Simons' paperwork today," she explained. "I noticed more than forty points of similarity between him and Olivia."

Lincoln laughs, and then apologizes. "Not laughing at you, just at the idea of someone having so much in common with Liv. Is forty points high?"

"Oh yes," Astrid assures him. "Olivia and Frank only had seventeen key areas of similarity in their backgrounds. I didn't have Frank's psychological assessment, so I was unable to perform a full analysis."

"Only seventeen? I suppose that's why they broke up, then."

"Possibly," she allows. "Most couples I have reviewed have shown between thirty and forty." iWe have thirty eight/i, she thinks to herself.

"It's too bad nothing can happen, then."

The remark confuses Astrid. "But Olivia is no longer living with Frank, and Agent Simons lists his relationship status as single. Why can nothing happen?"

"They're both agents. Fraternization rules," he says, as if it explains his comment.

"What does Section Twenty Three have to do with Olivia and Agent Simons? Under the rules of Fringe Division, only agents who work in the field together must refrain from fraternization. I have examined the clauses and have found no prohibition against a field agent and an analyst pursuing a relationship." She looks down at her hands. Her fingers are twisted together. "Should they wish too."

She looks up and sees that Lincoln is looking at her hands, too. She separates her fingers and presses them flat on the table.

Lincoln clears his throat and looks up. "Someone should tell Liv that. She'll be pleased to hear it." Then he changes the subject. They talk science for the rest of the evening.

As always, they share a cab. Lincoln walks her to her door. Astrid takes a deep breath as she unlocks her door. He will kiss her cheek and she will go inside and dream about him. She turns to him, but he doesn't kiss her. Instead, he is watching her intently.

"Astrid, have you ever wanted to be a field agent?" he asks.

The question makes no sense, but it is rude to not answer. "Never. I belong where I am."

"Good."

Astrid is twenty seven years, two months, and ten days old when Lincoln Lee cradles her face in his hands and brings her lips to his.


End file.
